The Ginny Weasley Story
by Harriet Potter1
Summary: Sex. Seduction. Scandal. And all other types of shame. Obviously, Ginny is in it. And Tom Riddle. [more detailed summary inside]
1. Summary Chapter

Disclaimer: Ginny, Tom, Harry, or all other character mentioned here are not legally mine, I am only using them for the sake of this document.  
  
By the way, this is about Ginny and Tom. It's definitely not what you think. And when you're reading this, you'll be thinking what I'm trying to make you think. Only so few know things that you don't, myself, Tom and Ginny included. Okay, let's put it this way, this fan fic is definitely unpredictable. ::Evil grin:: So stick by and find out the deep dark secrets of... cue the theme... A Ginny Weasley Story.  
  
  
  
Oh and by the way, all inaccuracies in this are there not by mistake but so the fan fic can actually get along. Chapter one will be up really soon, I'm still plotting. Bye! :-)  
  
  
  
Love,  
  
Harriet Potter 


	2. The Diary

It was a rainy day at Hogwarts during Easter break, a time of boredom galore and Easter baskets. The whole of the Gryffindor Common Room consisted of only a few, sat at a table, listening to Ginny Weasley speak about her first year, specifically Tom Riddle. It was a horrible story to tell at a good time such as it was, but it had to be told. Horrible things couldn't be held in forever, as Percy once told her about a especially sad moment, when the Weasleys went almost bankrupt. Ginny's thoughts were not in the Common Room, however, but a place that seemed very far away.  
  
  
  
  
  
*****  
  
It had been two weeks. Two weeks that Ginny Weasley would never forget. Two weeks ago today, she had come to Hogwarts, finally fulfilling her family's expectations. On her bed, freshly out of her luggage (which still had contents not unpacked), was a diary.  
  
The good thing about diaries is that they could preserve memories. Memories are only life once, and, if not handled well, could easily be forgotten. But for Ginny, memories of her first two weeks should never forgotten. So she picked up the diary-which had a faded name, T.M. Riddle, and a year on it- and wrote.  
  
I'm Ginny Weasley, and I'm writing in Hogwarts, where I've been staying for two weeks exactly.  
  
While thinking what to write, something happened. The ink that she'd just used disappeared, then reappeared, but with a different message.  
  
Welcome to Hogwarts, Ginny! My name is Tom Riddle.  
  
As anyone new to the wizarding world's surprises (although she is a pure-blood) would be, Ginny was utterly surprised that someone wrote back to her. It must be someone in the family, she thought, since it was in her old hand-me-down book.  
  
Hello.  
  
Hello to you too, Ginny. How did you come across my diary?  
  
Oh, is this yours? Oh, yeah, I see the name on the front. Gosh, this is old.  
  
Hey, I take that personally. Besides, I'm only sixteen.  
  
Uh, how can you possibly be sixteen if this diary is fifty years old?  
  
Long story. I suppose I'll tell you one day.  
  
  
  
Um, okay.  
  
Moving on, do you like Hogwarts?  
  
Conversation went on like this for hours. (A/N: I'm sparing you boredom, trust me.) Ginny soon felt a connection with Tom, although he was someone she'd known forever, rather than a mere bunch of letters, written in ink, just someone with no face to match a (very good indeed) personality. Ginny had three words to describe him: British charm overload.* (Of course, she would never say it out loud (or on paper, either), for she was a rather shy person.)  
  
After going to sleep, all Ginny could think about was talking (or writing) to Tom again.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*That's what I say about Daniel Radcliffe- British charm overload. Hehe.  
  
  
  
Okay guys this is by far the most boring, worst chapter I will ever write. Think of it as a roller coaster- slow at first, then, gradually it becomes- well- God help you. (Or as I say, Merlin Help You.) ( Don't forget to review!!!! 


	3. About A Month Later....

After a few months, Tom knew the whole deal of Hogwarts as Ginny saw it. Ginny had grown fond of Tom. Tom's time at Hogwarts was mainly secretive; Tom wasn't as open about it as Ginny was. Tom in general, Ginny had noticed, was secretive. Secretive as he was, they were still close. Closer than Ginny had ever thought she'd ever be with a sixteen-year-old boy.  
  
Hello Tom.  
  
Ginny! I thought you'd never come. It's boring inside a diary, you know.  
  
Well, um, no, I don't know, Tom. I've, er, never been in a diary.  
  
Forgot. Anything mildly exciting happen today?  
  
Mildly, yes.  
  
Ah, do tell. I live to hear.  
  
Watch the sarcasm, or I might just leave you.  
  
You wouldn't. I'm your favourite person in the world.  
  
Yeah, yeah. . .  
  
Anyway, what happened? What's shaking Ginny World?  
  
Colin asked me out!  
  
You're too young to go out, little girl.  
  
Yeah, yeah. . . always my age. . .  
  
And what did you say, I might ask?  
  
No! I'm not getting pictures taken of me every time. . . um. . . anything might happen.  
  
Raises an eyebrow. (A/N: This isn't the internet, he's not going to put :: , sorry!)  
  
Drop it.  
  
Yes, Ginny, whatever you say. . . any other reasons you rejected his feelings for you?  
  
You know how to make a girl guilty.  
  
I've had practice.  
  
Yes, there's another reason. I don't like him.  
  
Odd, I thought you were best friends.  
  
I mean. . . THAT way.  
  
Ah, yes, and just WHO do you like that way?  
  
Erm, that's sort of embarrassing.  
  
How so?  
  
It just is!  
  
Wait, you've already told me. It's. swoon. HARRY POTTER! Oh he's sooo.  
  
Shut up! And, no, not him.  
  
Ah, there's another boy? Who's the lucky guy?  
  
Lucky? Nah.  
  
You're deliberately going off topic.  
  
You're good at that.  
  
I'm a male, therefore I'm a master at it.  
  
Good, while we're at it, let's go completely off topic. Just one hundred percent off topic.  
  
No, I don't think so, Gin. Not this time. You're telling me. Who is it?  
  
You freak me out sometimes.  
  
I crave knowledge. Sorry about that.  
  
Yeah, whatever. I told you, it's embarrassing.  
  
Is he younger?  
  
No.  
  
Your age?  
  
No.  
  
Older, then.  
  
Yup.  
  
Oh, is it a brother? A Professor? A friend of a parent?  
  
Brother?! Professor?! Friend of a parent?! Ew, no.  
  
I rest my case. It's not that embarrassing. How old is this guy?  
  
Five years older than me.  
  
Sixteen.  
  
Yeah, I'd hoped that'd be harder to figure out for you. Shoot.  
  
You gave yourself away.  
  
Silence.  
  
Ginny, sweetie, it alright.  
  
Still silent.  
  
I like you too.  
  
Could it be true? Could Tom Riddle, a sixteen year old, whom she had feelings for, possibly like her? Tom wasn't one to lie. He was easily the most trusting person she knew. Not even her brothers- especially Fred and George- could be trusted as much as Tom.  
  
You. . . do?  
  
Yes, Ginny, I do.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, guys, leaving you at what you will see is not much of a cliff hanger. Why, you ask? Oh, you'll see. . . but that's much, much later. I'm sure you think you know the plot of this fan fic by now, but trust me, you know nothing. It's not fluff, and, no, not a mystery. Don't even try to guess. But if you do, put your guesses on your review. I'd love to hear the insane things you guys will come up with!!!  
  
And do remember that this is a roller coaster. You're only getting on to your seats. 


	4. Conversations Become Deeper

Ginny had shut the book after that. There was simply no more to say. Could it be that he liked her? She was old enough to be his younger sister. In fact, he was just a year older than her brother Percy. Of course, fifty years alone in a diary… Ginny couldn't blame Tom for being lonely. To him five years was nothing. Tom had suffered loneliness forever. He'd never known anything else. He spent his life in a orphanage, not even with people with magical powers, such as himself. He never knew his parents, or even any one new at all.  
  
She knew she'd never be as romantically involved with him as she constantly daydreamed about, but still she had to wonder just what it would be like. It was still early, and she decided to go down to the Common Room.  
  
Colin was there.  
  
"Ginny! I was wondering. . ."  
  
"ARGH! I said NO, Colin! NO, I will NOT go out with you!"  
  
And she stormed off back to her room.  
  
"I just wanted to know the time." He muttered to himself.  
  
  
  
  
  
Hello Ginny.  
  
Tom! I didn't know you knew when I opened the diary.  
  
You learn something new everyday, as my friend at the orphanage told me.  
  
Awww. . . Tom. . .  
  
It's alright.  
  
Tom. . . about yesterday. . .  
  
Yes?  
  
I don't know how to handle it.  
  
I thought you liked me.  
  
I do!  
  
Then there's your answer, Ginny. There's nothing wrong with it. Unless there's something wrong with me. Is there?  
  
No!  
  
Good. Then what's wrong, Ginny?  
  
It's just I've never been in the situation before.  
  
I know. Ginny, I know, I have to take care of you. Ginny, I love you.  
  
Love?  
  
Yes, Ginny, love.  
  
But Tom! It can't be. . . love is such a strong word!  
  
I'm aware of that.  
  
I thought you only just liked me.  
  
Oh no, Ginny, I love you. I want you. I need you.  
  
  
  
Ginny was utterly surprised and overwhelmed at this. Was it love she had for him?  
  
  
  
Tom, there's no way you could.  
  
I could prove it to you.  
  
How?  
  
Oh, you'll see.  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay, I must brutally stop. By the way 'Gryffindorqueen' is my best friend. And it's 'nothing she hasn't heard' because she happens to know what is going to happen. Isn't that right, Danielle? And so does Kelly Malfoy, but do NOT email her for secrets. Be a good reader and review. BYE! 


	5. Confrontation

It had been a long school day the next day, and the day afterwards, and the day afterwards, perhaps because the ending had not been with Tom. The days went incredibly long, especially Charms, where she sat next to Colin.  
  
Yes, Colin. They had been quiet towards each other for a while. Ginny thought it was partially her fault, but overlooked it. She had more important things to think about. Tom, of course.  
  
By the end of the day Ginny couldn't wait to exchange her hot, sweaty, (and heavy, too!) Hogwarts uniform for her pajamas. But she had got only so far as taking off her Hogwarts robes, sweater and undoing her tie and some of her shirt buttons, and putting on her bathrobe, when something stopped her from going any further.  
  
Pulling the curtains on her four poster bed open, there lie two things: her diary, and a boy.  
  
"Er. . . Tom?" She guessed, saying the first name that came into mind.  
  
He nodded.  
  
He looked no less than 16, and was pretty solid looking, save the edges, which were all a bit blurred, but easily ignored. Ginny had to admit he was extremely good looking to herself. She watched, uncomfortably, as his gaze from her bed went to her chest.  
  
Jerk.  
  
"Your robe says Bill."  
  
Oh, that.  
  
"Yeah, it's a hand-me-down." Said Ginny sadly, as she sat on the bed beside him, head hanging, "I told you. Almost everything I own is a hand-me-down."  
  
"I know. That's why," he said in a decidedly sly voice as he crawled in front of her, and put his hands on her stomach, "I'm going to give you something that. . . isn't a hand-me-down."  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What?"  
  
Ginny expected a sweater or a gift, but certainly not what she got. That moment, Tom pushed her onto the bed and started kissing her.  
  
"I love you." He needlessly reminded her. 


	6. A Simple Season

Love. Had Tom ever known love? It was a doubt. His whole life, Tom had a wall built around any emotion other than like and dislike. Minor emotions. But then, it would be natural for any feelings he had to burst out like it was now, for he could now freely use them. Of course, trapped in a diary for 50 years could make anyone appetizing. But then, there was a huge urge to trust him inside Ginny she couldn't explain.  
  
It wasn't till later she realized that she had lost something just then- her first kiss. And her second, and third, and all to go with it. Her virginity was still firm, however, so she couldn't explain, along with the feelings of trust, the feelings that it had gone too far. Perhaps Fred was right in saying she was too naïve. Perhaps.  
  
  
  
A few days later, the good spirits fell on the grounds at Hogwarts, dumping school students all over the yards. It was an opportunity too good to miss for a great population of the Hogwarts students. However, Percy pinned his Prefect badge onto his robes and said, "I have duties. I'm not going to do childish things when I have Prefect, er, things to do." And walked over to a Ravenclaw prefect.  
  
Playing in the leafy ground, Ginny noticed something. Harry. It wasn't Harry, no, Ginny had noticed Harry at the age of ten, a year ago, but the fact that she was immediately reminded of someone at the sight of him, but she couldn't place who.  
  
Ginny's life, as tedious and pointless as it always seemed to be, was at a high point. Sometimes Tom would come out of the diary, but not always. The relationship was innocent puppy love, being more of Ginny's nature.  
  
It was autumn, and Halloween was in the air, though it was 7 weeks away. Nothing really was happening, and the Hogwarts atmosphere was boringly pleasant, save the Gryffindor Common Room, where random people in random years complained rather loudly about homework. Ginny was bored, and there was only one cure for boredom for her. Tom.  
  
But the boredom wouldn't last very long. Soon, she'll be wishing for boredom.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: TROUBLE AHEAD! Heh. . . this is going to be VERY fun. But I'd like to thank all my reviewers, my adoring fans, for letting me know people actually read my stuff! ( 


	7. No Longer Ginny's Nature

Ginny came to her dorm, empty except packaged food and clothes scattered in various places on the floor. She opened her diary, afraid she'd die of boredom if she didn't talk to Tom soon.  
  
Hello, Tom.  
  
Ginny! Thank Merlin! Where were you?  
  
Living my life. Do you mind?  
  
Oooh, I've done well, you're starting to get a bit of my sarcasm.  
  
Uh oh.  
  
Oh yes, you don't want to lose your identity.  
  
My identity?  
  
POP! "Yes, Ginny, your identity." Tom said, coming out of the diary.  
  
"Tom!"  
  
"Yes, yes, it's me."  
  
"What identity?" She said curiously, carrying along the conversation casually like nothing happened.  
  
"Your identity as a sweet, innocent girl."  
  
"Oh, well, of course not. Can't lose that."  
  
"You have too many things to lose."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Tom then switched moods from casual to, well, Tom. He pushed her against the wall and said, "You're going to lose something tonight."  
  
Not even Ginny could mistake that statement. She knew what he meant. And even if she didn't then, she would now. Tom had already managed to take off her robes, drop her sweater from her waist, and was undoing her tie.  
  
"Tom. . ."  
  
He didn't look up.  
  
"Tom. . . I can't. . ."  
  
He looked at the cleavage he had exposed and gazed at her skirt.  
  
"I think you can. I can't see why not."  
  
"No, it's not THAT sort of can't, it's just that I. . . I. . . can't."  
  
He looked up at her. "Ginny," he said soothingly, "Would I ever do anything to you I knew wasn't good for you? Don't you trust me? I love you, Ginny, I would never, ever hurt you. You know that." He stroked her cheek, removed her from the wall, and gingerly brought her to the bed, her pigtails flattened and disheveled, only three buttons left on her shirt to undo, and she sat there quietly, shaking as he undressed her further.  
  
She was steadily becoming less afraid, as he whispered in her ear how it was alright, how it was okay, how he loved her, and it was right. He seduced her, persuaded her with her words.  
  
And that night, she lost her virginity.  
  
A/N: Alright, we got the sex and seduction down. What about the scandal and shame, you say? Soon enough. . . soon enough. . . but who says I'll keep going? I might not if you don't review! 


	8. Her Guilty Pleasure

She loved him. She loved the way he touched her, kissed her, made her forget she was just a school girl. The world around her seemed to have taken a break. She couldn't stop replaying the last night in her head. Her innocence was gone. She liked it. It was the only thing she thought about. She daydreamed about it constantly, so much so that Colin broke their silence to ask her just when and where she saw Harry, and if she had gotten his autograph, obviously noticing how much she was daydreaming.  
  
When replaying it became tedious, she began to unhealthily anticipate her talking to him again. She was hooked. He was perfect. When they were together, Ginny felt as if it was fate for his diary to end up in her old school book.  
  
The day seemed to go slower than any other day in her life. She wanted him, oh did she want him, she wanted to see him once more. She missed him sorely. She missed him like a fish would miss water.  
  
But, like all do, the day came to an end. And before she could even breathe inside the dorms, she rushed to the diary, and wrote in it, with a feeling like she was an infant and she had just seen her mother after being stranded. She felt so wonderfully at home. With Tom, it was more of a feeling of home than the Burrow was.  
  
Ginny felt like an outcast in the Burrow. She was the only girl, the youngest, the most teased, the overlooked. Her mum was too protective of her, taking advantage of having another female in the house. Her dad didn't know how to treat her. He wasn't used to girls. Homes aren't like that. No. Homes are places you go to after a long, hard day and feel a positive familiarity after walking inside and seeing everyone who lives with you. She didn't get that in the Burrow. She wasn't abused, no, just. . . she felt like she was just another person in the Burrow. Just another mouth to feed. But when Ginny saw Tom, it was home.  
  
Hello Ginny. You slept well, I assume?  
  
I went to bed at two.  
  
Yes, well, you slept well in the four hours you could, then?  
  
If it makes you happy, I did.  
  
Ah, but maybe it doesn't. Maybe I want you to have a lack of sleep.  
  
And why would you want that?  
  
Create something in your mind.  
  
I'm afraid to.  
  
You're scared easily, aren't you?  
  
A bit, yeah. Why?  
  
Well, your brothers must love that.  
  
Beyond words. Especially Fred and George.  
  
What scares you?  
  
You.  
  
Do I?  
  
No.  
  
Excuse the old geezer. I don't recognize jokes in writing.  
  
You're not old.  
  
I'm not? You're lucky I was stored as a 16-year-old memory, Ginny, because otherwise I'd be 66.  
  
Ugh, don't remind me. Yuck.  
  
Are you insulting me?  
  
No.  
  
Right.  
  
. . .  
  
You know, Ginny, you're avoiding talking about last night. Why is that? Did you not like it?  
  
No! I loved it!  
  
Oh?  
  
Yeah. . .  
  
I'm flattered.  
  
And I'm blushing.  
  
That just tells me I'm doing my job.  
  
**************************************************************************  
  
Tom was sleek, he was appealing, charming, kind, sympathetic, easy to talk to, gave great advice. . . he was too good to be true. But he was true. He was a living person. Well, not really, but. . . he was fifty years ago, anyway. He was perfect. There was not a single word that described him better. He pushed Harry completely out of her mind.  
  
Harry. Did Ginny still have feelings for him, or was she over him? She never had time to concentrate on it. Her mind was forever set, it seemed, on Tom. There was no other explanation for the one bad thing in her current life: her grade drop. But she had more important things. Tom.  
  
Tom was her guilty pleasure. Her only pleasure. She allowed nothing more in her life, it was her life. She loved him. The same thoughts went through her head, about how he was wonderful, and how he was perfect, and there must be some kind of flaw to him. Little did Ginny know there was. But she wouldn't find that out until it was too late. 


	9. The Last Smiles

Halloween was just a week away, and as soon as October dawned upon Hogwarts, Ginny had caught the flu that practically everyone else in Hogwarts had caught. She was pale, and weak, but, it seemed Tom found her even more appealing as usual. Or at least he was more cheerful. Boys. Ginny would never get them.  
  
Percy bugged her non-stop about seeing Madame Pomfrey for Pepperup Potion. After taking some, she had the embarrassment of having her ears steaming.  
  
Lately, there was much talk in the Gryffindor Common Room about Malfoy's new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Ron, for one, seemed overcome with a mix of jealously, for obvious reasons, and rage that Malfoy had bought himself into rivalry with Harry once again.  
  
Despite being sick, Ginny was still happy. She had Tom. Although she insisted that she would just write to Tom, rather than him coming out of the diary, he always came out. ("Ginny, I can't catch it," he'd say, grinning, "you forget. I'm a memory. Memories don't catch ailments." "But Tom!" she'd protest, "I can't let you see me like this.!") He'd stroke her cheeks, and mutter things in her hair, and whisper things in her ear. He'd touch her face, her hair, her shoulders, her arms. . . he loved her. Or so he said. Ginny highly doubted he knew what love is, but enjoyed his. . . whatever it was he had for her.  
  
If Ginny could think of only thing Tom could do well, it would be making a sick girl feel better. He'd sweet talk her, and smile at her, and kiss her lightly, and tuck her in to bed, whispering 'Good night', before kissing her on the cheek. Although nauseous, Ginny felt better.  
  
Pepperup Potion does nothing, Ginny would think to herself, irritated. Or maybe it acts slowly. . .  
  
That was as far as her thoughts got during the school day without them being corrupted by Tom. Tom seemed the subject of the. . . well. . . year. As usual, Hogwarts was tedious and boring, and Ginny felt incredibly sick, more so than she actually was, due to boredom.  
  
  
  
But, soon enough, something came. Something that not only changed Ginny's week, or month, but her life. Not for the better, either. 


	10. The Final Encounter

Halloween seemed to have marked the last day Ginny would be safe. It was no more than one day later she woke up with paint all over her. It wasn't a day long before that morning there were rooster feathers over her when she woke up, but she figured it was a practical joke. But how could someone paint her, on Halloween, when everyone was busy? She didn't remember a thing from Halloween as it was. Ginny could hardly sit in class, let alone listen. She was pale, and nauseous, and constantly dizzy. It was, for lack of other words, hell. She later found out Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was attacked. Although she couldn't explain it then, she had a sudden tinge of guilt when she found out. Hogwarts was in disarray, as was Ginny. Attacks were everywhere, each one more terrifying than the last. Ginny was horrified, even though she is of an all-wizarding family, and therefore couldn't be attacked. Every time a person was attacked, Ginny was absent. She would hear of these attacks and have no idea where she was when they occurred. Her only comfort was to go to bed. To go to bed and write to Tom. Tom had become distant. Ginny knew all too well that it was because she was in such a bad state. But he still could comfort her from inside the diary. He assured her (from afar) she was safe, and that he loved her.  
  
  
  
***Later in the year***  
  
Ginny was rudely awakened by a sudden blast of cold. She awakened to see none other than Tom Riddle standing over her immobile body. "Tom!" She said with the most emphasis she could force from her weak tone. "Where am I?" Although she didn't address it, she noticed Tom was more solid looking than he previously was. "The Chamber of Secrets." It could have been her overactive imagination, but he seemed to have been proud of saying so. He smirked. "Like it?" She sat up. "But how. . .?" She had a headache from the echo coming off of a stone statue over her, and was too dizzy to sit up. She lied back down. "Ginny, dear, I would think you could figure this out. I always thought you to be a clever child." She squinted in her confusion. "I'd worry about you if you weren't to die today." Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?" "I brought you here." "Why?" She whispered faintly. She only just realized she was shivering. "To kill you." "No. . . really. . . Tom, tell me." "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me 'Tom'. It was suitable for the time being." She blinked and spent more than average time with her eyes closed. She yawned lightly. "What would you like me to call you?" He lifted her head and whispered in her ear, "Call me by my real name, Ginny. Call me by the name I'm known as. The name I'm feared as. The name I'm loved as. Call me Lord Voldemort." She gasped. He went on. "Surely you've figured out that I'm the Heir of Slytherin, so I certainly won't have to tell you." "You are?" She said weakly. "Would I lie?" She wanted to scream 'Yes! You would! You did and you would, and I never want to see you for as long as I live. I loved you, I trusted you! I hate you!' but found it hard to speak, especially to him, the Heir of Slytherin. "Yes." Was all she could make out. When she found the strength to do so, she opened her mouth once again. "You said you loved me. . . that you wanted me. . . " She inhaled, but before she could speak again, he did. "I also said I needed you." His eyes twinkled in delight. "And that, my dear, was the only truth." He laughed coldly. "I'll explain. I used you. Not you, per se. But your body. Your energy. I used it to fuel me. I needed you, not for love, for love is a wasted emotion, but for energy. For life. You, my dear Ginny, are hand-in-hand with the attacks that have been occurring recently." He leaned over. "How does it feel, sweet Ginny," he lifted her chin with the tip of his long finger, "to have attacked Harry Potter's best friend?" He shook his head and tisked. "Now, what would dear old Harry say? Dealing with the Dark Lord, befriending me, helping me attack his friend. . ." He smirked maliciously and let go of her chin, her head banging on the hard floor. "But I didn't. You did. Your monster did." She winced weakly. "Yes, but who strangled the roosters? You. Who wrote the writing on the wall? You. I used you. I controlled you. I never loved you. You were a parasite, and nothing more." His eyes lit up once again at her reaction. "But I trusted you, and you. . ." "Lied." "Yes." She nearly whispered. "That's life, dear Ginny. And you, unfortunately, won't experience much more of it." Her once doll-like face, now inhumanly pale, dropped.  
  
When she woke up, a blurred, dark-haired image was over her. She nearly screamed, for she now had the energy to do so, until she realized it wasn't Tom, but Harry. Harry. So it was Tom who he reminded Ginny of after all. He assured her it was alright and took her back to Hogwarts grounds, where her parents were.  
  
To this day, Ginny doesn't remember much about the Hospital Wing and such, as she was traumatized and therefore not very focused on reality. However, she did remember, although it was weeks later, walking in the halls and smiling. She was grateful. Not for Tom, no. But for being alive. For being able to go to sleep and wake up and start a new day. Although it seemed odd, she supposed she gained a certain strength from that year. It just goes to show that there is always a bright side, and that no matter how long it takes to see it, it, one day, will be visible, even if you're not looking.  
  
***Present day*** "I guess that's it." Ginny inhaled, as a random girl who walked in nearly half-way through the story cried. Colin was smiling. It wasn't that he was sadistic, Ginny knew, but because it was only a few days after the Chamber incident that Ginny had kissed Colin. It had become an unspoken secret of theirs as it happened, but it undoubtedly stuck with them. Harry looked uncharacteristically disturbed, as he could relate her story to his. But besides the sporadic sobs of the random girl, no one made a sound. Ginny was alright with the silence, for she was shaken up from telling the story. She got up to go to bed. "So. . . that's it?" The girl said from behind her. Ginny turned around. "Yes. There's no more to tell." She nodded and they all walked off.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: If that wasn't horrid, I don't know what is. Alright then. Bye.  
  
  
  
  
  
What, you're still here? Go! Go! Go play.  
  
  
  
  
  
I'm not kidding! It's over. There's no more to read! Bye.  
  
  
  
Alright, alright, if you MUST stay, go and write a review. 


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